The Elliotts: Mixing Business with Pleasure. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
through her. She remembered when he had made her feel as if she were the most important woman in the world. He tried again, unsuccessfully, to tempt her to eat a buffalo wing and asked about her best girlfriends. He knew about them, but they didn’t know about him.
They finished the appetizers and another drink, and Erika glanced at her watch. “Oh my goodness. It’s ten o’clock.”
He grabbed her wrist. “Nah. Your watch must be wrong.”
“Check yours,” she said. “Where did the time go?”
He looked at his watch and swore, then met her gaze and held it for a long moment. “We never had any trouble filling the moments.”
Her stomach tightened at his reference to their past relationship. She shook her head. “No. We didn’t.”
His gaze held hers for another moment before he looked away and sighed. It was probably her imagination, but she would have sworn there was just a little longing in that sigh.
“You want a ride?” he asked.
“That would be nice.”
After calling for the car, he paid the check and ushered her outside. “There it is,” he said, pointing to a black Town Car. “I’ll get it,” he said to the driver as the man stepped out of the car. He held the door open and Erika slid across the leather bench seat. Gannon followed, closing the door behind him.
“Still in Park Slope?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, immediately aware of his closeness. She smelled a hint of aftershave mixed with whiskey and the combined scents of Italian leather and fine wool. As he gave her Brooklyn address to the driver, she glanced down at his long legs. She knew he’d played soccer in college, but she’d always wanted to play one-on-one with him. She knew he was a ferocious competitor no matter the game.
He touched her shoulder and she looked at him. “Yes?”
“I said you should buckle up,” he told her, reaching over her shoulder to pull the strap across her. “Didn’t you hear me?”
She smiled. “That second martini must have hit me.”
The car swerved, throwing Erika against Gannon’s chest. His arms closed around her.
The driver slammed on his brakes and swore. “Sorry, folks,” he said.
Her face inches from Gannon’s, Erika stared into his green eyes, holding her breath. She felt his gaze move to her lips, burning her with the imprint from his eyes.
“Once for old time’s sake?” he asked in a low voice, sliding his hand behind her neck. “We need to get this out of our systems, don’t we?”
She could have pulled away. He would have allowed her to refuse.
But she didn’t.
Four
Erika held her breath. Her heart seemed to pause, too, as if she’d been waiting for this, for him, for such a long time. Microseconds lasted forever.
Finally his lips touched hers. He increased the pressure and she sighed. He rubbed his mouth sensually over hers and she allowed herself the guilty pleasure of sinking into him. He slid his tongue past her lips and she tasted the cool peppermint candy the waiter had left with the bill.
As he massaged the back of her neck, she leaned into him, wanting more. The sensitive tips of her breasts grazed his hard chest and she swallowed a moan. She hadn’t known her body had responded to his so quickly. She was so wrapped up in how he felt that she forgot how he affected her.
He lowered one of his hands to the side of her breast, and her heart stuttered. She wanted him to caress and squeeze her. She wanted his bare hand on her bare breast. An intimate image seared her mind of the two of them, tangled together as close as a man and woman could get.
Gannon deepened the kiss and Erika felt her mind turn like a kaleidoscope. With each turn she grew more dizzy.
The sound of a cough penetrated the roar of arousal in her ears. The cough sounded again. Gannon reluctantly pulled away, his eyes dark, mirroring the same passion that kicked through Erika.
“Uh, excuse me, Mr. Elliott,” the driver said. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but we’ve been parked for three minutes now and that policeman across the street keeps pointing at his watch.”
Arousal and embarrassment warred for domination inside her. Erika licked her lips, tasting Gannon all over again. Swallowing a groan, she glanced away and covered her eyes to compose herself. She could just guess how worked up she looked. She probably looked as if she would have been willing for Gannon to take her in the backseat, heedless of the driver’s presence or the anal policeman across the street.
She adjusted her hair and pulled her coat around her more securely. “Well, thank you for the ride. It was fun catching up over cocktails. I guess I’ll be seeing you in the office.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.
“Not necessary,” she said, needing to get away from him so her brain cells would begin working properly. “I don’t want you to get a ticket.”
“Carl, go ahead and drive around the block once. I’ll be here when you get back,” Gannon said and helped her out of the car.
He escorted her to the door, and when they stopped, Erika was reluctant to look at him. She didn’t want him to see what she knew was written on her face. “Thanks ag—”
She broke off when she felt his fingers on her chin, lifting it so she would meet his gaze.
“I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you,” he whispered.
“Well, that’s one of us,” she said, thinking she’d realized how much she’d missed him every waking minute since they’d broken up.
“I really shouldn’t kiss you,” he said.
“That’s right.”
“We’re both going to have to keep our relationship professional. We can’t let what happened last year happen again,” he told her.
“I agree,” she said firmly. “So stop looking at me like you want to make love to me against that door.”
He sucked in a sharp breath and leaned against her, nudging her against the building. “As long as you stop looking at me like you want me to take you against that door.”
“No problem for me,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her ears.
“Or me.” Immediately he made liars of both of them when he took her mouth again and gave her a kiss that screamed sex.
Four days later Erika sipped another cup of coffee halfway through another fourteen-hour day as she joined the Pulse staff meeting.
Michael Elliott sat at the head of the table with Gannon to his right and Teagan, also known as Tag, Michael’s youngest son, to his left. Erika gave a quick nod to Gannon but purposely didn’t meet his eyes.
After going at it with him in front of her Brooklyn brownstone, she’d decided she needed a strategy if she was going to work for Pulse. Number one on the list was to avoid Gannon. Number two was the two-foot rule. Always keep two feet between herself and Gannon.
In this instance, number two was easy to keep because she chose to sit on the opposite side of the room.
“Hi, Erika. Good to see you,” Michael said.
“Thank you, Mr. Elliott. Good to see you, too,” she said.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be dividing your time between Pulse and HomeStyle?” he asked, ever the hard-edged businessman. “We’d like all your attention here.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Elliott, and trust me, I’ll be happy